


Lords of Vulcan

by SinisterScribe



Category: Star Trek: Discovery, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Amanda has been through the wringer, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Mirror Universe, Mirror!Philippa is a dick, Plotting, Political Shenanigans, Sarek was just trying to have a good day, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, canon typical dickery, kelpians are cinnamon rolls, references to slavery, they were all just trying to have a good day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:06:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24918808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinisterScribe/pseuds/SinisterScribe
Summary: I've been tooling around with how Mirror Amanda and Mirror Sarek would have gotten together in that universe. It made no sense to me why a Terran would shack up with a Vulcan considering their differing...everything.Makes perfect sense to me that the Emperor would use such a thing as punishment for someone who had displeased her by, you know, breathing wrong.Still, Amanda and Sarek are the type to make the best of the situation.May continue but it's standalone for now.
Relationships: Mirror Amanda Grayson/Mirror Sarek
Comments: 25
Kudos: 62





	Lords of Vulcan

**Introductions**

**_Vulcan…_ **

The Terran Emperor was in his home.

Sarek came to this uncomfortable realisation only when it was too late to do anything about it. He had already stepped into the living area of the main house and stalled when he realised that, yes, that was the Emperor draped across the low couch.

Her most Imperial Majesty, Mother of the Fatherland, Overlord of Vulcan, Dominus of Qo'noS, Regina Andor, Philippa Georgiou Augustus Iaponius Centarius reclined resplendent on the low seat dominating the living area of his home. Her golden armour shimmered in the setting of the Vulcan sun at her back.

Guards flanked her in the eves of the room, Sarek had little doubt that more were sequestered about the property to safeguard her. Sybok knelt stiffly on the floor, held captive with nothing more than the deceptively gentle hand of the Emperor on the nape of his neck.

A corpse lay on the rug beside the tea table, blood seeping into the antique silk threads of a furnishing woven before the inception of the Terran Empire.

“Emperor.” Sarek remained composed, his face revealed nothing. He bowed deeply, lowering himself to one knee, his robes pooling around him on the polished stone floor. Every picture of reverence and respect and his eyes travelled to his son only once he had paid such dues.

Sybok was terrified. He knelt rigid and unmoving, his hands clenched to small fists upon his knees. High spots of green stained his upswept cheeks, his eyes were bloodshot and wet, tears stained his face and it took far more control than Sarek had expected to remain where he was and not move to remove his son from the Emperor’s grip.

He wrestled for a long moment, watching the gold that formed talons over the Emperor’s fingers rake through the soft hair at the nape of his son’s neck.

Sybok swallowed audibly but wisely did not move. He did not dare to look at his father. Just stared straight ahead.

“Ambassador Sarek, how do you fare today?” The Emperor finally waved for him to rise. Sarek did not do so as he knew that was a trap.

Sarek tore his attention from his son to the woman holding him captive and regimented his control once more.

“I am well, Your Majesty. To what do I owe such an- -unexpected visit?” Sarek was doubly careful of his tone.

He knew that his voice would reflect nothing of what he felt but Terrans were notoriously unstable. No more so than the Emperor herself. If she felt there was a slight in his inflection, Sarek had no doubt that Sybok would be the one to pay for such infractions, imagined or not.

“You’re very loyal, Sarek.” The Emperor hummed, petting at Sybok’s hair as if he were a favoured pet. “Even in your absence your spawn has seen fit to be…entertaining.”

The Emperor’s hand snapped open suddenly, releasing Sybok.

“Go to your father.”

Sybok moved as if to bolt to Sarek’s side and then stilled. His head half turned, dipping his chin in deference to the Terran looming over him on the couch.

“There is nothing further I might do for you, Majesty?” His voice cracked under the strain of attempting to remain neutral but the Emperor smiled for him like a well fed Sehlat.

“No, sweet thing. Go see your father.”

Sybok lurched to his feet, graceless, evidently having been forced to sit in the same position for perhaps hours on end. His legs were obviously numb but he hurled himself over the corpse lain in front of him and staggered to Sarek’s side.

Sarek grasped his son by the shoulder and steadied him, meeting his gaze. The bond sprang up between them and, where Sarek would have usually shied away from such things, he steadied his son instead. He needed it more than Sarek needed to remain neutral in such things.

Besides, it was the only way they could communicate without the Emperor being privy to such things.

A brief exchange, more pictures and feelings than words, assured Sarek that his son was unharmed, simply terrorised and already growing accustomed to that.

“With Your Majesty’s permission, Sybok could prepare tea?”

“Vulcans and their tea.” The Emperor waved a negligent hand, dismissing Sybok from the room. She stretched out her legs, one after the other, crossing her ankles together and resting them atop the body on the floor. “Very well.”

“My son.” Sarek nodded to Sybok and offered the boy the only escape he could.

“Father.” Sybok ducked his head and fled the room, heading to the kitchen where he might compose himself and make the tea.

“Sit.” The Emperor flicked her fingers at the bloodstained rug beyond the body and Sarek muscled down any outer sign of revulsion.

He swept forward, choosing his spot, and knelt beside the corpse, just beyond the Emperor’s booted feet.

A low sibilant sound dragged his attention downward without his permission to do so and he stilled when he saw the body in greater detail.

It was still alive.

Sarek blinked. He honestly had not expected that.

The body was…a ruin. If there was a single bone unbroken, Sarek would have been at a loss to identify them. The hair was long and dark but tattered, eyes so bruised as to be swollen shut, such was the beating that the not corpse had taken that he could only _guess_ as to what species he was looking at. The rattling sound he had heard was the body attempting to draw breath still. 

“Yes. She’s still alive. An augment. Descended of Kahn Noonien Singh.” The Emperor enunciated the name with relish. “A few generations removed of course but, so long as her brain and most of the stem remains intact, she shan’t expire quite yet.”

Sarek dragged his gaze up from the apparent Terran strewn across the floor like a broken leaking doll.

Sarek had little idea as to how he was supposed to respond. The Emperor shifted, switching one foot atop the other and continued conversationally.

“She was Amanda Grayson, Lady of Lies, one of my favoured at Court. Personal tutor to my adopted daughter.”

Ah.

Everyone, _everyone_ , knew of the aborted coup upon the Emperor’s life. Led by her own daughter, Michael Burnham. No one knew of what had happened to the conspirator leaders, but anyone that had sided with them had…disappeared. If they were lucky.

Michael Burnham had disappeared. Alongside Gabriel Lorca, another of the Emperor’s favoured, dubious honour that such a thing may be.

Dread curled cold and frigid in Sarek’s chest as he looked down at the ruined Terran splayed out before him. He was _amazed_ that she still lived. He knew that no Vulcan could have survived such barbarism. They simply would have shut down, gone into shock and expired.

Sarek did not know why the Emperor had kept the Lady Amanda alive nor why she had been brought before him, of all people.

“Now, you might be wondering why I’ve brought this…bad influence here but I think it is well known that I believe the punishment should fit the crime.” The Emperor looked up when Sybok entered the room, bearing the tea service. She summarily ignored the boy as he poured for the Emperor and his father. “I don’t expect you to know who Kahn Noonien Singh is, but suffice to say that he is integral to the existence of Terrans as you know them today. This means that Amanda’s greatest value has always been that which resides in her very own DNA.”

Sarek was still none the wiser as to why he had been involved in this. Then again, he had given up long ago in attempting to backward engineer the decision making patterns of Terrans. They tended to be as illogical as they were cruel.

“DNA, I may add, that she has refused to propagate. Happy to teach the children of _others_ bad habits but never raise any of her own. Usually, the Emperor would be above such things as explaining to courtiers that they really should carry on their line, I am no petty tyrant. However…recent events have caused me to reconsider.”

Sarek remained silent, picking up his cup of tea only after the Emperor had. He drank of his, knowing that she would not touch her own. Too paranoid for such things.

“Amanda is the last Scion of Kahn, the rest of her lineage have hurled themselves upon the sword of the Empire’s glory. She, regrettably, is too intelligent for such things. Fully aware that her lineage as one of the most Terran of Terrans, descended of the First, puts her in a _unique_ position amongst our people. A position that not even an Emperor might dethrone her from.”

Sarek set his cup of tea down, glancing down at the ruin of meat and bone that had once been a Terran so fierce that she had apparently bowed to none. Not even the Emperor.

“Unless, of course, she was to do that herself.”

Sarek lifted his gaze to the Emperor. Still mystified but cognisant that his participation was not essential to this conversation.

“Which made me wonder, how to corrupt the incorruptible? How might I knock such a paragon from their pedestal?”

Sarek very much hoped the Emperor wasn’t looking for suggestions from him. He was somewhat useless when it came to wanton cruelty and destruction.

“Of course, I did not have to look very far. People always carve the rod for their own back if you but give them long enough.” The Emperor smiled and it seemed almost genuine. “She’s quite beautiful, you know, under all this mess. She has prodigious appetites. Indiscriminate, one might say. It is _whispered_ that she is not even that picky about who -or what- warms her bed.”

Sarek went completely and utterly still.

“Imagine the _scandal_.” The Emperor lifted her feet from digging into the Lady Amanda’s mulched ribs and set them on the floor. She leaned forward, propping her elbows onto her knees and her chin in her hands. “Imagine the _horror_ of her supporters at court should she make a reappearance, bonded to an alien, his mongrel child swelling her belly?”

It took everything Sarek had to stop the tension begin to knot between his shoulders.

“I had to pick you, you understand. Needed someone who was loyal to the Empire. Whose loyalty could be…assured.” The Emperor’s gaze flicked unerringly to Sybok and then back to Sarek, her meaning clear. “You may be a hobgoblin of an alien, but you are quite sturdy and you shall need such strength to keep her in line. She can be quite…destructive if given the opportunity to gain leverage.”

The Emperor pushed to her feet and Sarek lunged upright after her. His mouth opened as if to protest. She could not _seriously_ …?

“Oh, yes, by the power invested in I, Emperor Phillipa Georgiou Augustus Iaponius Centarias, by -well- myself I pronounce Sarek of the House of S’chn T’gai wed to the Lady of Lies Amanda Grayson.” The Emperor flicked her fingers between them. “ _Mazel tov_.”

“Your Majesty, I…”

“You’re very welcome. Her wealth is not inconsiderable and now it is joined to your own. You and your line shall want for nothing for generations to come.” The Emperor smiled benignly. “I’m leaving the Kelpian. It will…reassemble her for you. Though I recommend breeding her before she regains the use of her limbs. She’ll use hers to remove yours. If you’re lucky.”

Sarek’s voice died in his throat, becoming a hoarse croak. He could not…he was expected to…? How? How could he do this?

His gaze travelled to Sybok.

How could he not?

“Don’t worry about performance anxiety. Happens to everyone I hear.” The Emperor patted Sarek on the shoulder and then grimaced at her gloved fingers as if she had touched something wretched. She waved a guard over and wiped her palm over the chest of his uniform. “You have, hmmm, a year and a day? Yes, a year and a day to make your debut at court.”

“There shall be…biological considerations to…overcome.” Sarek’s voice sounded so unlike his own he was surprised to hear it issue from his own throat. 

“Hmmm…” The Emperor tugged at one of the leaves on her golden laurel crown. “That sounds like a _you_ problem, Lord Sarek.”

“Lord?” Sarek had lost the thread of all sense some time ago. Was it any wonder that he had no idea the meaning of the conversation anymore?

“Of course, you’ve married up. Vulcan is a gift to my favoured, Lady Amanda, you will rule it at her side. For however long or short a time that may be.”

“Under your guidance of course.” Sarek dipped his chin.

“Naturally. Now I must take my leave. Worlds to conquer, stars to destroy, bacon to bring, you know how it is.” The Emperor spun away, her guards falling in behind to flank her in neat formation. “Many happy returns, Lord Sarek.”

“Thank you, your majesty.” Sarek dipped forward in a deep bow and seethed out a single breath only when the shimmering hum of the transporter might cover it.

He straightened to find himself in the company of his son, a Kelpian and his new and half dead wife.

Not how he had imagined finishing the day.

“Father- -?” Sybok stepped closer and stalled himself when Sarek’s hand landed heavily on his shoulder. He met his son’s gaze and silenced him with that one look.

They could not trust the Kelpian. Slave or not.

“Sybok, please clear away the tea. I must…see to the Lady Amanda.”

Sybok looked for a long moment like he might protest but then he ducked his head in a sharp nod. He spun away, gathering up the tea and sidling around the mess of blood that pooled around Lady Amanda.

Sarek turned his attention to the Kelpian, standing in the corner of the room, head bowed and subservient even at rest.

“What is your name?”

“I have none, my lord.” The Kelpian did not even glance up and Sarek swept aside the sensation of rage, injustice and bile rise up in his throat like venom from a gulch viper. He inhaled deeply instead.

“We will address that at a later date. You are trained medically?”

“Yes.”

“Would you attend…my wife?” Sarek looked down at the Lady Amanda, still just barely alive on the floor.

“Of course.” The Kelpian stepped forward fluidly, long limbs trailing like a fish’s fins. It picked daintily over the carpets on its hooved feet and folded down to crouch beside the crumpled Terran.

Long fingers fluttered over a medical case produced from within the depths of its robes. A medical tricorder roving over the Terran, many red lines spiking amongst the readouts, yellow flashing lights and harsh blips accompanied the readings.

“Should I summon aid? Vulcan medical staff?”

“If my lord believes they may be trusted.” The Kelpian answered without giving any indication if they actually needed help or not.

“Can you treat her without their help?”

“Yes.”

“Very well. Shall I assist you in moving her to a better place for treatment?”

“I would prefer to ensure the structural integrity of her skull and spine before moving her.” The Kelpian opened their medical case, which appeared to be larger on the inside, and set about treating their patient.

“Is there anything I could do?”

“Give me access to the household replicator stations? I believe my lady’s injuries shall require extensive treatment. Perhaps, also, my lord may wish to attend to his son. I sense great distress from him.”

“Yes. Of course. Thank you.” Sarek, relieved to have something to do, something that he _could do_ , spun on his heel and headed for the kitchen.

He found Sybok standing by the sink, scrubbing hard at one of the teacups with cleansing sands and the sonic purifier on high.

Sybok did not turn at his father’s approach, his intent steadfastly upon the ceramic in his hands. He scrubbed so hard that his pale knuckles were already raw and green from the rough treatment. His breathing viciously controlled even if his eyes were dulled in instinctive defence, the third eyelid that all Vulcans had obscuring his iris to a cloudy grey.

Sarek reached out slowly, his fingers smoothing over the controls of the purifier and lowered its setting to one not conducive to scouring the skin from his son’s hands.

“I did not know they were here!” It burst raggedly from him, Sybok’s chest heaving with the effort of having held the words in. “I came home from the Academy and they- -she- -I didn’t know.”

“Of course you did not.” Sarek reached out, taking the cup from his son’s hands. The one the Emperor had touched. He considered a moment and then placeded it into the recycling station. He activated the unit and turned back to Sybok. “You did nothing wrong.”

“I didn’t…she…I was scared.” His voice was a hollow whisper.

“It is only logical to have been afraid.” Sarek took Sybok by the shoulders, turning him from the sink and finding a towel with which to clean the sand from his son’s hands. “The Terran Emperor is…a predator. Fear kept you alive.”

“She saw I was afraid.” Sybok gulped. “I- -I showed her.”

“Because that was what she wanted to see.” Sarek nodded. “It saved your life. The Emperor is…displeased by the control of adult Vulcans. I believe she enjoys the effect she has on her subjects.”

A chime sounded throughout the room, causing Sybok to flinch badly. Sarek steadied him, firm hands on his shoulders, and turned away to answer the communication.

Sarek was not at all surprised by the face that appeared on the vid link.

“Elder Syrvan, live long and prosper.” Sarek nodded to his superior and splayed his fingers in the preferred salute.

“Peace and long life, Ambassador Sarek. We at the High Council have received some…troubling information. We wish to discuss it with you.”

Sarek did not ask what the information was with regards to. He felt to do so would simply waste time. He nodded sharply instead.

“I will leave immediately.”

“I shall inform the others.” Syrvan nodded his head in thanks and promptly cut the connection.

Sarek turned to regard his son, about to tell Sybok that he must leave for the High Council Chambers as he must surely have surmised. He stalled when he saw Sybok’s reaction to the conversation. The boy’s shoulders were rigidly tense. His hands balled into fists at his sides and his wide eyes darted repeatedly towards the living area of the house.

Sarek was not one to be swayed by the swell of compassion that rose within him at the sight of his son’s distress but…neither was he one to ignore that distress as a parent. He inhaled deeply and shifted, drawing Sybok’s attention to himself rather than the Terran in the other room.

“My son, I find myself in need of returning to the Council Chambers. Attend me.”

“Father?” Sybok faltered, unsure he had heard correctly.

“Our afternoon has been disrupted. You must surely be hungry and you are in no fit state to feed yourself. We shall attain sustenance for you on the way to the Chambers and you shall accompany me there.”

“Ah. Of- -of course, father.” Sybok attempted to cover his relief with detached control but he wasn’t there yet.

“Fetch your schoolwork. I may be detained at the Council Chambers for some time. The structure will help you.”

“Yes, father.” Sybok spun on his heels and ducked out the doorway to retrieve his school things.

Sarek took himself off to explain to the Kelpian where they were going.

He had the sense that this was to be a long evening indeed.

**_The Vulcan High Council Chambers…_ **

“Lord of Vulcan?!”

“- -Lady of Lies? That is truly her title?!”

“…not part of the agreement. The Emperor has no…”

“- -must be a test. There is no way that Sarek could possibly- -”

Sarek sat back in the chair offered to him by the Council and let their protests, denouncements and denials wash over him. It did nothing to deter the surreal quality that his day had taken upon arriving home to find the Terran Emperor making his home look untidy.

Sarek took the time whilst they bleated to one another to centre himself. He sat calmly, his elbows resting on the arms of his deep seated chair and his fingers arranged into a steeple before him. He inhaled deeply to the count of eight, held for four and released for seven. One of the first becalming techniques he had learned, but it was still valid. He employed it even now, some fifty years after learning it.

“Fellow Councillors,” Councillor Syrvan’s voice cut through the babble, he alone had remained silent at the conclusion of Sarek’s testimony, “if we may have order.”

The rest of the Council subsided. Some more reluctant than others to silence their opinions on the matter. Sarek glanced over the dissenters, marking who may cause problems for him more than others. It was difficult not to let resentment surface. They acted as if he had done this purposefully when nothing could have been further from the truth. He had no desire to be wed again, let alone to a Terran of some bloodline of distilled purity and violence.

“Ambassador Sarek, to clarify, you had no warning of the Emperor’s arrival? She brought the Lady Amanda, performed the bonding ceremony and then left once more?”

“Yes.” Sarek had been looser on some details than others.

He was incredibly aware that the Emperor instilled disruption and incited chaos amongst the leaders of her conquered worlds. Vulcan was no different and if he was expected to rule Vulcan, for whatever bizarre reason, at the Lady Amanda’s side, then he would not start by giving her enemies fodder to use against her. If it became known that this was a position of punishment for the Lady Amanda, it would be used against her. To endanger her would endanger Sybok.

And that Sarek would not allow.

As far as the Council were aware; the Emperor had announced that he was to be wed to the Lady Amanda as some sort of gift, since he was the Ambassador to the Terran Empire. A dubious honour at the best of times and a position that did not come with a lengthy life expectancy. She had chosen Sarek for Lady Amanda because his family was one of the oldest and the wealthiest on Vulcan. A truth that earned him few favours amongst the Council at the best of times.

They had no idea of the punishment aspect of Lady Amanda’s stay on Vulcan. They thought she was not in attendance to greet the Council because she simply did not wish to. It was Sarek that had been asked to attend, after all.

“And we are supposed to believe that she bestowed this favour upon you, you, out of _nowhere?_ ” Councillor T’Sal arched an eyebrow in Sarek’s direction and Sarek returned the expression easily.

He had faced the Emperor this afternoon and the terror of his son being mere inches from a genocidal maniac, Vulcan stoicism did little to unsettle him in comparison.

“Whatever the Emperor’s reasons, I do not have the whole of them. I cannot think of a reason for her to take me into her confidences. It is not as if I hold a high position in Terran court.”

“Quite the promotion. One wonders what service was given to earn such reward.” Councillor Tos cocked his head to one side, glaring at Sarek.

“I have only ever worked to preserve the Vulcan way of life under the rule of the Terran Empire.” Sarek’s voice was sharp enough to cut glass. “If my loyalty to my home planet is under any doubt, do bear in mind that anyone making inferences to the contrary could be legally beheaded by my own hand under Terran law.”

Councillor Syrvan turned his head sharply away from Sarek as if to shield the other councillors from his expression. He turned back when he had regained control. He spoke into the stunned silence that Sarek’s last had ushered into the room.

“I do not think beheadings will be a necessary aspect of these meetings. There appears to be little that the Council could achieve by discussing matters further. Ambassador Sarek seems to have been elevated by our benevolent Emperor. Questioning her motives has yet to yield favourable results. For now, I motion that we act in accordance to the Emperor’s wishes. All in favour?” Syrvan looked out over the Council Chamber and was met with a series of unenthusiastic ayes in favour. He turned to regard Sarek.

“My lord, thank you for your attention in these matters. We look forward to meeting your bond-mate.”

“I shall pass along your well wishes and invitation to these chambers.” Sarek stood, dipping his head in a nodding bow and then turned and escaped the room before anyone could think to stop him.

Sarek exited the cavernous chambers and Sybok all but leapt to his feet at the appearance of his father. He hurriedly shoved his pads into his school satchel, scooped up the containers remaining from his dinner and fell in step with Sarek, who had slowed his progress to give Sybok a chance to catch up.

Sybok thought to speak but a sharp look from Sarek curbed the impulse. He trailed after his father, out of the Council Chambers and into the warm evening beyond. Night had truly fallen but it would be hours yet before the heat of the day dissipated into the frigid chill of the darkest part of the night.

Sarek led the way to his transport, regarding the security scanner attached to the key fob in his palm. No less than three scans rotated across the holo-screen projected by the device, confirming the car to be free of incendiary and or surveillance devices.

Sarek lowered himself into the driver’s seat when the doors hissed up and open and Sybok hurried around the car to bundle himself into the passenger side.

Sarek ignited the engines, shifted the car into flight mode and piloted it in a wide curve away from the elevated entrance to the High Council Buildings, located up a steep escarpment all but impossible to access via footway or grounded transports.

Sarek held the controls in a sure grip, unwilling to relinquish piloting to the car’s inbuilt pilot. Such things could be easily hacked and directed straight into the mantle of the planet at speeds high enough to reduce Vulcan occupants to liquid.

“How much did you hear?” Sarek finally spoke when yet more security scans had triple checked for listening devices.

“You did not tell them that this is a punishment for Lady Amanda.” Sybok admitted, he had been instructed to listen after all. “Why would you not?”

“I do not know what the Emperor gains from such a move as placing Lady Amanda in my care, but I am certain that some elements of the High Council would perceive her premature death as beneficial. If they were to be aware that she is vulnerable…it would make us vulnerable by association.”

“She is just one Terran.” Sybok sounded doubtful.

“One Terran that the Emperor has not or cannot kill. If the Lady Amanda was a favoured of the Emperor then she is no small power in and of herself. Terrans of the high court are the strongest and most savage of their entire race. It would be a fool that would attempt to assassinate such a woman.”

“Are we not vulnerable by association anyway? If it would be suicidal to take on the Lady Amanda herself, are we not then the logical targets to weaken her in another way?”

“Had she not been a citizen, I would agree with such an assessment, though the Emperor did not strip Lady Amanda of her citizenship. As it stands, so long as Lady Amanda is a citizen, she is protected by the entire might of the Terran Empire, as is anyone she calls family. Something happens to any of us and the Empire may well destroy the whole of Vulcan. It is the reason that a single Terran citizen can walk unmolested throughout the entirety of the quadrant. If harm is to befall any one of them, for whatever reason, those perceived to be responsible are destroyed with overwhelming force.”

“That seems…disproportionate.”

“It is.” Sarek nodded, piloting them over the hills surrounding the family estate, heading out over the inland sea bordering the property. “It is imperative that you tell no one that Lady Amanda is not in favour with the Emperor. If they were to find out…they might then believe that she was no longer a citizen with all of the rights and protections entailed.”

“So your secrecy will protect us from outside threats.” Sybok agreed with a nod. “What of the Lady herself? The Emperor told you to…it did not sound like something the Lady Amanda would enjoy.”

Sarek stiffened. Repulsed that his son had been witnessed to such an imperial decree. Knowing that his father would have to commit the unspeakable or commit treason. Treason which would bring sufferance and execution upon his entire family if not his whole planet.

“If the Lady Amanda is treated by the Kelpian, becomes whole once more, and learns that you were ordered to…” Sybok shied away from voicing it again. “I cannot imagine she would react mercifully. If I were in her position, I would react proactively to prevent such a thing.”

“This is true.” Sarek nodded heavily, his hands white knuckling on the control wheel of the car for a moment before he controlled himself. “I have no intention of harming her. Imperial decree or not. I will…find another option.”

“The Emperor made it clear that she will kill me if you do not carry out her wishes.” Sybok gripped the seat upon which he sat with both hands. “Adult Vulcans trained in the ways of Surak are…all but impervious to emotional entanglement, however, I know that some have made exceptions when it comes to their children.”

Sarek glanced at his son. Blinking.

Sybok sucked in a deep breath, bracing himself, and spoke on a rush.

“If the choice is between my life and raping Lady Amanda, surrender me.” Sybok darted a glance at Sarek, huge eyes shining out of a pale face. “Committing such a crime would destroy you as surely as the Emperor could me.”

“Sybok…”

“No!” Sybok insisted. “I was thinking, whilst you were in the chambers, this is a hopeless situation. We have gained the attention of the Emperor and as such are marked. Sooner or later, we will die. This is true of all things. So. The only thing left to us, is how we die.”

“I would prefer you focus your energies on staying alive.” Sarek pushed his rage aside again. “There is little dignity in death. What does it matter how we die?”

That his son had been subjected to this. That he had been perched outside a Council Chamber, ruminating on the hopelessness of their situation. That he was a boy of eleven and had already resigned himself to a premature death due to the machinations of the Terran Emperor. That he would have come home from school, found her invading their home like a monster from myth and horror and would have known _then_ that his death warrant was all but signed and stamped.

“As would I, father, but when dying is all that is left to us, it matters very much. I will die as a Vulcan. Not as a coward, ruled by Terrans. If my death is all that I may have, then I will own it.”

Sarek inhaled deeply. His hands tightening on the controls again so hard that the polymer creaked beneath his grip. He locked himself in place rather than express anything of the seething mass roiling in his chest like some sort of parasite intent on bursting forth and devouring all it came across.

Eleven and his son had already decided in which way he wanted to die.

As a Vulcan.

Logical, compassionate, true to himself even at the cost of his own life. Even if it meant saving one of his own oppressors from harm.

“Do not surrender. I am not…defeated. We are not dead yet.” Sarek spoke at length, already a new plan was occurring to him.

One that was just this side of madness but, when the alternative was walking meekly to his demise at the behest of the Emperor, his son at his side…he’d take madness.

Madness might well be the only thing that could triumph against the Emperor.

He looked back at Sybok and finally turned the car towards their home.

“I am proud of you, my son. You may own that too.”

Sybok said nothing in return. He couldn’t.

He was busy holding back his tears.

**_Later…_ **

It was days before Amanda woke.

She knew it as soon as her eyes fluttered open and she saw an unfamiliar ceiling above her.

She was confused for a moment, hovering in that space between sleep and wakefulness and then grimaced with a small groan when she recognised the familiar weight pulling at her entire body. Like the gravity had been dialled up to eleven.

Healing coma.

It had been decades since she had lapsed into one. Not since she had been on the front lines, swinging a sword at Philippa’s side. She had been younger then. Dumber.

What had she done this time to…?

Amanda went completely stock still when she realised she was not alone in the room.

“I would turn on the lights, if that does not displease you?”

That was… _not_ a Kelpian.

“Lowest settings.” Amanda agreed after a moment and her host, whoever he was, moved with a subdued rustle of fabric, farther away from her rather than closer, and a dimmed golden glow suffused the room.

Amanda winced anyway, her eyes were even more sensitive than most Terrans’, and she squinted at her captor.

“A Vulcan?” Amanda blinked, thrown by that.

Of all the people she had expected to be handed over to upon her fall from grace, a Vulcan had not been one of them. Klingons, definitely, they’d tear her apart for weeks. Andorians too would enjoy mincing over a wide radius. The Orions would have sold her into trade and made profit on her drugged carcass.

Vulcans though?

What the hell was a Vulcan supposed to do to horrify her?

Stare at her without expression for hours on end? Beat her at poker? Point out logical fallacies until she simply ended herself to get away from it all?

“My name is Sarek of the House of S’chn T’gai. Lord of Vulcan. Your husband.”

Amanda stiffened at that, her laser blue eyes tracking over him as he moved.

He crossed the room with the feline grace that all of his species possessed. His features were distinguished and upswept. Dark hair cut in that ridiculous one size fits all haircut, eyes of a dark umber that never left her own and prominent pointed ears, even for a Vulcan. He was dressed from neck to ankle in dark sweeping robes and reclaimed his chair at the foot of the bed.

He settled back in the chair, his fingers arranged into a steeple at his chin and one leg folded over the other. He watched her for a long and unblinking moment.

“I’m a little hazy,” Amanda rubbed at her forehead, subtly checking that she was in fact dressed in something, “but I wasn’t drunk when we…?”

“Not drunk. No.” Sarek tilted his head, watching her with that compelling and unblinking stare. It may have unnerved a Terran of lesser breeding.

“Well, then, don’t take this the wrong way, but I think I’ll be filing for divorce now.” Amanda managed something of a wan smile, shifting her legs to check they still worked.

“Would that it could be done, my lady. However, the Emperor herself saw to our…union.”

It hit Amanda like a painstick to the gut. She stilled, her entire body clenching in visceral response, and seethed loose a slow breath.

The coup.

The _fucking_ coup! Michael and Lorca had moved against the Emperor, spurred by whatever mad bastard hubris they could muster and had attempted to overthrow the Emperor. _Morons_.

The court had been devastated by the betrayal, the Emperor’s paranoia ratchetted to all time highs until she saw threats everywhere. Those that had not been killed in the uprising were summarily executed en masse afterward. Those that the Emperor wasn’t _certain_ of betrayal had been…interrogated to ensure their veracity.

“What’s the date?” Amanda asked suddenly. Sarek told her and she nodded slowly. “Three months.”

“Three months?”

“Since the coup. Since I was accused of treachery and taken to the Accountancy to answer for my imagined crimes. No wonder I don’t remember most of it. I probably shut down pretty quickly. That’s why she hasn’t killed me. Doesn’t know what I know.” Amanda nodded mostly to herself and peeled back the covers. She hissed when she saw the _mess_ of her legs.

They had been broken and reset at least once. She was mottled all over with bruises in varying states of rainbow decay. Sealed wounds were fresh and pink from dermal regenerations and she could feel that toughened meat texture in some of her muscles that came from plasma burns cooking the muscle beneath the burn marks on her skin.

“Shut down?”

“I’m the product of _extensive_ genetic engineering.” Amanda lifted one leg with her arms when she couldn’t just bend her knee. She set it down and did the same with the other. “If I’m subjected to torture then my brain slips into a sort of…feral mode. All of my energy is redirected to surviving, I remember nothing of what torture is weighed upon me and I’m incapable of giving up any information to anyone against my will. Not even to make the pain stop.”

“That is…unsurprisingly barbaric.”

“Yeah. Well. It worked. I’m still alive.” Amanda poked at her legs, mildly concerned by the complete lack of feeling but she supposed someone had activated additional pain shunts on top of those already at her conscious disposal.

“I have no intentions of torturing you. There was no need to attempt to dissuade me from a course of action I will not take.”

“Listen, uh…”

“Sarek.” He supplied helpfully.

“Right, Sarek, of course. What’s the other shoe?”

“Excuse me?”

“There’s no way that Philippa dumped me here without a plan to ruin me. She wants to know what I know and -now that she’s convinced I’ll have to tell her of my own volition- she’s put me in a position that I’ll want to extricate myself from. So. What are you supposed to do? Get into my head? Pull the information out that way? Leave me with the cognitive functions of a turnip?”

“I…do not know what information the Emperor wants. She told me nothing of such things. Only that this was a punishment for you.”

“So there is a punishment. Cool. What is it?”

“I am to be your husband.”

Amanda raked him with a blatant and somehow impersonal assessment. She tilted her head to one side, dark hair swishing over her shoulder. Her mouth twisted in an expression he did not recognise.

“You’re not _hideous_.” Amanda shrugged one shoulder as if that was the only thing that might concern her. “What else?”

“You have a little under a year to…produce an heir of our combined bloodlines.” Sarek chose his words carefully and Amanda went completely still.

She considered that a moment and then nodded slowly. Her tone more cautious when she spoke next.

“You don’t seem enthused by this. What has she got on you?”

“It was strongly inferred that she would murder my son should I not cooperate.”

“I see.” Amanda inhaled deeply, nodding once. “Did she kill your wife?”

“No. My bondmate is not dead. She took the rights to devote herself entirely to the ways of Logic. Such a thing is an honoured tradition amongst my people but we do recognise that it is not…ideal to raising children.”

“Ah.” Amanda realised suddenly. “Vulcans are many times stronger than Terrans, aren’t they?”

“We have been known to physically overpower Terrans in close quarters combat.” Sarek nodded.

“I’ve seen one of yours twist the head clean off one of mine. Don’t by shy now.” Amanda licked her lips and it was the first trace of nerves he had seen from her. “So, you could, if you wanted. That’s the punishment.”

“Could what? I hardly think pulling your head from your body would gain me any favours with the Emperor considering you say she wants information from you.”

“No. I mean you could rape me.” Amanda’s eyes narrowed a fraction, studying his reaction to that. “I’m stronger than other Terrans but you could. Probably. If properly motivated.”

“I will _not_.” Sarek told her flatly.

“It’s the logical thing to do.” She shrugged.

“It is an unspeakable thing to do.” Sarek showed more teeth than he usually would when he spoke.

“You say that now. You haven’t seen the Emperor… _motivate_ people.” Amanda sat back against the head of the bed, realising for the first time that it was his bed. It must be.

She glanced about the room. It very much had the look of a master bedroom to it. She saw expensive drapes and wall hangings, some paintings, simple furnishings. It was elegant in its understatement, much like the man before her, but she wasn’t fooled.

This was a trap. The fact that her captor appeared unwilling did nothing to sway her in sympathy toward him.

The Emperor won.

Always.

“I have already made my peace with my ancestors.” Sarek said to the side of her head. “I have accepted that my appeal to your better nature may be in vain. You may kill us all, simply because you are Terran. My life was over the day the Emperor arrived in my home. So, all that is left to me is to try.”

“Try what?”

“To forge an alliance with the most dangerous animal in the quadrant.” Sarek tipped his fingers in her direction.

“You have to be joking!” Amanda gusted a laugh. “A Vulcan and a Terran? Together?”

“We are already married.” Sarek lifted a shoulder to mimic her earlier shrug. “We can either fight one another or pool our resources.”

“Why not just kill me when I was unconscious? Why let me wake up at all?”

“Setting aside the reasoning that killing anyone should always be a last resort, you are still a citizen of the Terran Empire. If any harm were to come to you, the whole of Vulcan would be blamed.”

“And obliterated from orbit.” Amanda nodded, she could understand that reasoning. “I don’t trust you, but let’s say your idea has merit, an alliance. What could we possibly do to save ourselves from the impending wrath of Imperious Rex?”

“Well, the fact that the Emperor has not killed you implies that you are somehow still valuable to her in some way. We should capitalise upon that. Make you more valuable alive than dead.”

“And how might we do such a thing, dear husband?”

“Vulcan could be a powerful ally to the Empire. We are literally millennia ahead of your own technology. If Vulcan could be…brought to heel or at least give the appearance of same, surely it would benefit the Emperor to have the one who did so at her side rather than set against her?”

“If you’re so damn smart, how come the Empire enslaved you all in about five minutes flat?” Such things had happened over a century. Vulcans no longer had the position of mere _slaves_ , they had been replaced in that social strata by Kelpians who were far easier to tame. On paper, as the Terrans would say, the Vulcans had near equal standing in the Empire. A charter that had been drafted a century prior had guaranteed them rights as sentient beings under Terran rule.

It was staggeringly different in the reality but the Vulcans had not really expected much to change. No Vulcan had ever been in a position to effect any great change.

Until now.

“Infighting, political posturing, craven opportunism.” Sarek tilted his head with a sort of shrug. “Vulcans are not immune to such things and the Emperor knows this. She has…capitalised upon them in fact. The result being a fractured Vulcan. The High Council are little more than figureheads, family factions jockey for power and the Logic Extremists grow…more ruthless by the day.”

“Logic Extremists? Like the first wife?”

“No, she is an apostle of Surak. She chooses to devote her existence to the ways of logic compelled by compassion. The dampening of emotions for the betterment of our society at large. The Logic Extremists…have done away with compassion. Logic is their weapon to keep the Vulcan race ‘pure’. Their group have xenophobic tendencies which…are fuelled by the Empire’s indifference to the wellbeing of Vulcan at large.”

“Sounds like you need to look into keeping your own house clean. Why have the Council done nothing about this?” Amanda frowned. That kind of unrest going unchecked was…alien to her. The Emperor would have waded in with her own damn sword before letting any of her citizens be terrorised by anyone bar her.

“The Logic Extremists have many friends in all levels of government. They operate in terrorist cells. They are difficult to track and it is…something unfamiliar to Vulcans to distrust one another.”

“Wait, you’re telling me the terrorists are running around blowing shit up because…you’ve forgotten how to defend yourselves?!”

“Essentially.”

“Good grief.” Amanda blew out a breath and considered it. The idea wasn’t _entirely_ without merit.

Besides, killing a bunch of people may well put her in a better mood. She had spent so long in the backstabbing spider’s web of Imperial Court that she had almost forgotten what a good honest murder felt like.

No political machinations, no silken words and venomous action, just muscle and steel and skill.

“Well, I suppose I’m going to need to make a show of strength sooner rather than later.”

“There is no need.”

Amanda looked sharply at Sarek.

“No one on Vulcan knows of your injuries bar myself, my son and the Kelpian the Emperor left to care for your wounds.”

“Why would you keep that information to yourself?” Amanda frowned, he kept throwing her for a loop this one.

“My safety and that of my son is tied to yours. No one in their right mind would consider attacking a Terran Lord.” Sarek swept at dust particles she couldn’t see over his knee. “I also took the liberty of…asking around as to what had apparently happened to you in court. The consensus appears to be that you were integral to the destruction of the coup that should have overthrown the Emperor. As a reward she gave you Vulcan to oversee.”

“Huh.” Amanda could not really parse that.

She could understand being dumped here with a man that had been convinced that her carrying his child was the only way he and his existing child would live. That was a recipe for repetitive and maddening torture if ever there was one but…protecting her reputation at court? What could the Emperor possibly hope to gain…?

“The Emperor mentioned that your standing at court would have to be unmade by your own hand. From what I have gathered, political alliances between species are often forged of marriages but those rarely result in children. By demanding that we produce an heir, I believe the Emperor thinks that you would lose favour from your peers by birthing a…’mongrel’.”

“Yeah. That makes sense. Preoccupation with blood purity that bunch.” Amanda admitted. “Never understood it myself. Recipe for stupidity and receding chins if you ask me.”

Sarek blinked, clearly not understanding that reference and Amanda just shrugged.

“She gave us a year to produce this mythical child?”

Sarek nodded in confirmation.

“A year to remake Vulcan in my own image.” Amanda murmured, her lower lip worried between her teeth. She lapsed into protracted silence.

“What are you thinking?” Sarek asked at length.

“I’m thinking…that I should probably get my legs to start working sooner rather than later.” Amanda decided brightly, summoning a smile from somewhere. “Will you send the Kelpian to me?”

“Of course.” Sarek rose to his full height, towering over her. He dipped his chin in a nod to her. “Thank you for listening.”

Amanda nodded, not trusting herself to respond.

She watched him leave and blew out a slow breath, attempting to steady the kicking of her heart in her chest.

Okay.

So.

World domination or death.

Amanda huffed out another breath.

Doable.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure I could write a lot of this. The Mirror Universe is the precise opposite of why I like Startrek in the first place. 
> 
> Still, it was fun to play with and imagine their first meeting. 
> 
> Let me know what you thought.


End file.
